Only Human
by faerietailes
Summary: (Slightly AU, probably OOC) In this world, Bruce Wayne is not Batman, Dick Grayson is not Nightwing, Jason Todd is not Red Hood, Tim Drake is not Red Robin, and Damian Wayne is not Robin. Instead, Damian Wayne has moved in with his father and has to learn to get along with his three other brothers (Told from various character's POVs)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This story will probably be slightly AU, OOC and crack!ish. Basically Batman/Nightwing/Red Hood/Red Robin/Robin/Batgirl/etc doesn't exist, and the Wayne family are just a normal family (aside from the infinite amount of money).

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the DC characters. Also, please bear in mind that I have not read any of the comic books, so the characterisations of the characters may be different to canon (hence why this is slightly OOC).

* * *

The sun was high in the afternoon sky as Damian Wayne stared up at the mahogany door in front of him. Glancing around, he knew that his driver was long gone, leaving the boy on the doorstep of the richest man in Gotham's estate. The driver — Damian remembered he had been fat, greasy and ugly — hadn't even bothered to make sure the boy was dropped at the right place. Lifting up a hand, Damian gave the door three quick knocks. A few seconds later, he heard footsteps from the other side, and the door was pulled open, revealing an elderly man dressed in what seemed like a butler's outfit.

"Welcome, how can I —" The butler was obviously not expected to be greeting small child, though his initial shock was replaced with a warm smile, "Am I incorrect in assuming that you are Master Damian Wayne?"

Damian frowned, but nodded.

"We were not expecting you so early," the man said, before stepping out of the way, allowing Damian to enter the house, but the boy stood on the doorstep, "Oh, forgive my manners. My name is Alfred Pennyworth —"

"And if you are the help my father has employed —" Damian's gaze flickered up and down the older man's outfit, "I would suggest helping me with my luggage."

"Oh, of course, Master Damian." If Alfred had been insulted by Damian's rude tone, he didn't show it. Instead, he simply stepped around Damian, walking towards the two large bags that Damian had arrived with. "Now come on inside, please. Since Master Bruce wasn't expecting you until later, I'm afraid he has dashed off to the office for a quick emergency. No worries, however, as all the other young Masters are at home." Damian had tuned out the butler's tone as he followed the old man up the stairs, gazing up and down the walls of Wayne Manor as he walked.

As Damian walked past a slightly opened door on the second floor, he heard laughter coming from inside, accompanied by a loud whack. Damian's brow creased, wondering if his father would approve his workers goofing off.

"Right, then, Master Damian, this shall be your room," the butler paused in front of a large mahogany door. On the door was a plaque, with the letters _DW_ engraved. Damian turned glanced around. Three other doors had letters engraved into plaques — _RG, JT, _and _TD_. The only door on this floor that did not have an engraved plaque was the one that had been slightly ajar earlier.

"Where is father's room?" Damian glanced at Pennyworth as the butler unlocked the room. Walking inside, Damian followed suit. The room was relatively large, and had all the necessities — a bed, a desk, and shelves and drawers. There was also a door to Damian's left, which he guessed led to a private bathroom.

"Master Bruce's bedroom is further down the corridor," Alfred replied, "Now, if you will excuse me, I have to prepare lunch. If you wish, you may join the young Masters in the recreation room, down that way —" Alfred gestured to his left, indicating the room that the laughter was coming from, "I am sure they won't mind. They're all excited to meet you." With that, he gave a small bow and disappeared from the corridor. Damian stood in the middle of his room, and had thought about unpacking, but a loud crash followed by laughter and a string of profanities broke his thoughts. His expression was clearly annoyed as he stormed out of his room, wanting to know who the loud noises came from.

* * *

Tim Drake laughed loudly as he watched his two brothers scuffle on the floor of the recreation room.

"You fucking cheater!" Jason Todd all but screamed as he whacked his brother with a soft pillow (aka the first thing his hand had grabbed on to).

"It's not — my fault — you — suck!" Dick Grayson breathed in between laughs.

This caused Jason to roll his eyes and slump back against the couch, glaring up at Tim, who was clutching his sides from the stiches he received from laughing.

"We should play a racing game," Jason muttered, pushing himself up to sit on the couch.

"Why? You know you're still going to lose at that," Tim said, dodging the pillow that Jason had thrown his way.

"Yeah, I mean, who failed their driving test twice?" Dick joked, standing up.

"At least I don't burn toast," Jason replied, glaring at Dick, who simply laughed again and sat down in between his brothers.

"I want to play a —" Tim's voice was drowned out when he saw a figure standing by the door. The boy looked around Tim's age, maybe a little bit younger. The thirteen year old's eyes squinted. "Who are you?"

The two older boys turned to see who their younger brother was speaking to, and both their eyes widened when they saw the boy by the door.

"Damian Wayne." The boy crossed his arms across his chest, eyeing three of the boys, "And who are you? Should you all not be downstairs, helping Pennyworth with lunch?"

His question caused Jason to quirk a brow. "What are you talking about?"

It was Dick that clicked first. The eldest boy jumped up from his seat. "You're Damian Wayne?" He looked at the boy, as if trying to solve some sort of puzzle.

"Yes, are you deaf? Or just idiotic?" The boy's frown deepened, "And as I was saying, you should be —"

Before the boy could finish, Tim snapped his fingers, at the same time as Jason shouting a loud "Holy shit!" They had both clicked onto who he was.

"Listen kid," Jason spoke up this time, standing up, "I don't know who you think we are, but you have no right to tell us what we _should_ be doing."

"Jason, I don't think his mother told him about us," Tim muttered, earning a nod from Dick.

"It still doesn't give him the right to act all high and mighty. And rude," Jason said, glaring at the boy.

"I would not speak in such a way if I were you," Damian retorted, "Especially if you all clearly know who I am — Damian Wayne." He said his name again, emphasizing the last name, "As in, son of Bruce Wayne?"

"We know who you are," Jason said, annoyance clear in his tone, "And since _you_ obviously don't know who _we_ are, I guess it'll be a shock for you when your father tells you." Jason hadn't missed the slight smirk that graced Tim's features, and the twitch of a smile forming on Dick's.

"What are you babbling about?" Damian asked.

"You'll find out later, when your dear daddy returns," Jason teased, before motioning to Tim and Dick, "Come on, let's go see if Alfred will let us eat the cookie dough." With that, he left the room, Tim following close behind. Damian was smart enough to move aside, so Jason hadn't gotten a chance to "accidentally" bump into his newest brother.

The only one that stayed back was Dick, who gave an almost apologetic look towards Damian, before moving to turn off the game system. "Don't worry about Jason," the older boy said, turning his attention back to Damian, "You'll get used to him."

Damian responded with a roll of his eye and exited the room.

* * *

_That evening..._

Damian sat with his arms crossed firmly across his chest. He was facing his father, Bruce Wayne, in the older man's study. Just before, Damian had been introduced to his three newest older brothers — Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Timothy Drake. Coincidentally also the three idiots Damian had met earlier.

"Why didn't mother tell me you had other sons?" Damian's voice was low, and if one paid closer attention, they could pick out a slight hint of jealousy in them. Unfortunately, Bruce hadn't been that perceptive that night.

"Talia probably did not see the importance in informing you," Bruce said, looking up from the papers that littered his desk. He watched his son — his own blood — carefully. There were similarities, definitely, but Damian also looked a lot like Talia Al Ghul, a woman that Bruce loved once upon a time.

_It was ten years ago, and they had what one would call a summer romance. It wasn't meant to last — Talia lived outside of Gotham, and once summer had ended, she had returned home. Never to be seen by Bruce again._

_Until a few months ago._

_She had informed Bruce of her son — and his, too. Due to Talia's dangerous past (one that she had not allowed Bruce to explore or know about) she knew that her son was in danger. So she had asked Bruce if he could take him in, until everything was settled. Bruce was hesitant at first, but eventually agreed. And two months later, his own son had showed up on his doorstep._

"Father, are you listening?" Bruce was brought out from his trip down memory lane, looking back at his son.

"I'm sorry — son, what were you saying?"

Damian was silent for a moment. "Nothing, forget about it," he muttered, "I am going to sleep now. Good night, father." With that, he stood up from the chair and left the room.

* * *

**A/N: **Please review! Constructive criticism works well too!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **This story will probably be slightly AU, OOC and crack!ish. Basically Batman/Nightwing/Red Hood/Red Robin/Robin/Batgirl/etc doesn't exist, and the Wayne family are just a normal family (aside from the infinite amount of money).

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the DC characters. Also, please bear in mind that I have not read any of the comic books, so the characterisations of the characters may be different to canon (hence why this is slightly OOC).

* * *

"So, how're you finding it here, Little D?"

Damian looked up from the thick book he was reading, frowning at the nickname. Dick Grayson had taken a seat across from him, an easygoing grin across his face.

"Pleasant enough," Damian replied, his tone clipped as he continued back to his book. However, when he felt Dick's gaze on him, he glanced up again. "Can I help you with something, Grayson?"

"'Grayson'?" Dick feigned a hurt look, "I was hoping you were going to call me 'Big Brother', or something along those lines. But then again, I guess with three older brothers it might be a little bit difficult and confusing..." Dick was rambling, completely unaware that Damian was getting annoyed by the second.

Slamming his book with a loud thud, Damian place it onto his lap. "If you are going to ramble on about something senseless, _Grayson_, I would suggest doing it to either Todd or Drake. I am sure they have nothing better to do with their time." He shot his older — _eldest — _brother a frightening glare. But instead of cowering in fear or cringing (which, as Damian had noticed, was most people's reactions), Dick's grin simply grew.

It was then that Damian gathered that Dick Grayson was either an idiot, absolutely stupid, or just unabashedly annoying.

"You're such a sourpuss, Little D," Dick said, rolling his eyes and completely ignoring Damian's glares, "Anyway, you're right though. I do have something to ask you."

Damian kept his gaze even, silently waiting for his brother to go on.

"You know about Bruce's charity gala this weekend, right?" Dick took Damian's silent nod as an answer to his question, "Anyway, Alfred wants us all to get new suits — don't ask me why — so Jay, Tim and I were planning on going today. Do you want to come with?"

Damian thought about the offer. He really didn't want to go, especially with his brothers. But the gala was in two days, and Damian had only brought with him two pairs of suits, both of which had become too small for him.

"I suppose I do not have a choice," Damian stated, standing up from the couch, "What time are we leaving?"

"Now!" With another large grin, Dick stood up in one swift motion and bounded out of the room. Mumbling incoherently under his breath, Damian followed.

* * *

"Oh, so the little shit decided to join us?" As Damian stepped out into the large garage (it housed five cars, two motorbikes, three mountain bikes and a limo. Yes, a limousine). Jason was leaning against a yellow Ferrari, twirling a set of keys around his index finger. Next to him, Tim was typing furiously away on his phone.

Damian had tried to ignore Jason's nickname for him, but he couldn't prevent a glare aimed at his younger-older brother. "Shut up, Todd," he simply spat, "And I do hope you are not driving. I heard from Alfred that you failed your test twice." This caused Jason to frown, stopping his motion of twirling the keys.

"Whatever. At least I can see over the dashboard," Jason replied, walking around to the driver's side, "And since we're taking my car, I'm driving."

Tim, who had not even acknowledged Damian, simply got into the backseat, as Damian made his way to the passenger's seat. Just as he was about to get in, a hand was placed on his shoulder. Looking up, Damian frowned in Dick's direction.

"Youngest at the back," Dick said, the grin still across his features, "Sorry, I don't make the rules." Damian grumbled to himself and made his way around to enter the backseat through Jason's door.

* * *

The drive to the main shopping mall in Gotham was eventful, to say the least. Damian wondered how Jason had passed his driving test — the sixteen-year-old drove like an absolute maniac; he sped whenever he could (i.e. when he _knew_ speed cameras weren't around), and had a habit of slowing down at yellow lights only to speed up at the last minute so that he'd run a red light. It was... terrifying. But despite how fast he drove, Damian was hardly ever jerked around in the car, nor was he pushed forward at his older brother's sudden stops. And while Jason drove, Dick was tinkering with the radio, unable to find a channel that he liked, and had eventually resorted to Jason's iPhone for music ("I'm the driver so I get to pick the music and I pick my phone," Jason had stated). And throughout the entire ride, Tim remained quiet, occasionally typing on his phone.

When the car pulled into the parking garage of the shopping mall, Dick was the first to step out. Stretching, he pulled out his phone from his back pocket, grinning at the text he had received.

"Alright, Babs said she's at the tux store already," Dick informed his little brothers, "So let's start shopping!"

"Why is Barbara coming along?" Damian looked over to Jason, who had just locked the car once Tim had climbed out.

"Do you think a bunch of four teenagers," Jason paused, eyeing Damian, "Well, three teenagers and a preteen can honestly pick out good suits for themselves?" His question had been rhetorical, but Damian did not seem to pick up on it.

"Well, yes," the young boy stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I am more than capable to buy my own clothing. I do not need help."

Jason rolled his eyes, before walking towards the mall entrance, signalling for Damian to follow him. "Alright then, just think about it this way: Dick wanted to spend the day with his girlfriend so he invited her along."

* * *

"Come on, Little D, let's see what you look like!" Dick's voice caused Damian to groan. After fixing up his suit jacket, he pulled the changing room curtains open and stepped out.

"Aw the little demon looks so adorable!" Jason's tone dripped with sarcasm as he stood by the corner, his own suit draped over his arm.

"I think he looks absolutely precious!" Barbara said, smiling widely. Damian rolled his eyes.

"Tim, what do you think?" Hearing his name, Tim looked up from the magazine he had in his hand. He simply responded to the question with a shrug, before turning back to his magazine.

"Damian, what do you think?"

Damian looked into the mirror, and for a second, he wondered if this was what Bruce looked like when he was Damian's age.

"I like it," the boy mumbled, before heading back to change into his casual clothes.

So after an hour in the store, the five youngsters had all walked out feeling accomplished, four of the boys holding onto a bag each.

"Alright, what now?" Dick had walked further ahead, glancing back at the rest of them.

"Food," Tim replied.

"And then we go buy alcohol for the gala," Jason said, though it was hard to tell from his tone whether or not he was joking.

"Yes to the food," Barbara said, walking up next to Damian, "No to the alcohol. Because we're all underage."

Jason's bottom lip jutted forward, a small pout forming on his face. "I knew there was something I didn't like about you," he muttered, though it was clear from both his tone and expression that he was joking this time. Still, it didn't stop the punch in the arm from Barbara.

"Alright, food it is then! Where do you guys want to go?"

"I saw an Italian restaurant up ahead that looked kind of nice."

"I feel like Japanese."

"I'm good with anything."

"There's a park right outside the mall. We could have a picnic."

"Shut up, Todd."

* * *

**A/N: **Please review! Constructive criticism works well too!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **This story will probably be slightly AU, OOC and crack!ish. Basically Batman/Nightwing/Red Hood/Red Robin/Robin/Batgirl/etc doesn't exist, and the Wayne family are just a normal family (aside from the infinite amount of money).

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the DC characters. Also, please bear in mind that I have not read any of the comic books, so the characterisations of the characters may be different to canon (hence why this is slightly OOC).

* * *

Dick Grayson glanced up at the clock. Twenty minutes until guests would undoubtedly start to arrive. Everyone was always on time for a Wayne Gala. Looking into the mirror in his bathroom, Dick added the final adjustments to his tie, before hearing a knock on his bedroom door.

"Come in!"

The door opened and Tim's head popped in. "I need help with my tie, and Jason's not even dressed yet and Bruce's still in the shower." Dick motioned for his brother to come in, and once he was content with his own appearance, he moved to fix the tie around Tim's neck.

"There we go." Dick brushed imaginary lint off Tim's shoulders, "By the way, Tim."

Tim glanced up.

"Try to talk to Damian tonight," Dick said, which caused the younger boy to frown slightly. "I'm not forcing you, obviously, but you should try. He's not that bad of a kid. A bit spoiled, and with a holier-than-thou attitude, but he's still a kid." Tim simply nodded, and when Dick took a step back, he left the room.

Dick sighed. Ever since Damian had arrived, Dick had tried his best to make the boy comfortable — he had tried to talk to him as often as he could, and while it started off mainly as a one-sided conversation, Damian eventually began to talk more. But it was only to Dick. When it came to Jason, Damian was still quiet, but had opened up to the second oldest quite a bit, especially compared to when he had first arrived (though Dick noticed that their conversations were often Jason teasing Damian and Damian shooting back an insult). The only person that Damian never spoke to was Tim. The two youngest didn't seem to get along very well, though Dick wasn't quite sure why that was.

Another knock on the door caused Dick to look up, but before he could tell whomever it was to come in, the door opened and this time, Bruce's head poked inside.

"Good, you're ready. It's time." Dick's guardian-turned-father-figure smiled and then disappeared back into the corridor. Making sure his suit was in pristine condition; Dick stepped out of his room and headed downstairs.

When he jumped onto the landing of the stairs, he walked straight to the ballroom, giving a small wave to Alfred who stood by the door, awaiting the guests.

Bruce stood in the middle of the ballroom. Damian stood by his side, looking around the large room, and Dick knew that even Damian, who acted like he was better than anything and anyone, was impressed by the grand design of the room. The sight made Dick smile ever so slightly — from where he stood, he could see just how similar Damian was to Bruce; both stood up straight, with their hands behind their back and their expression neutral. It was slightly eerie, like looking at a mini-Bruce, which, Dick thought, was exactly what Damian was. A mini-Bruce.

"Where's Jaybird and Tim?" Dick's question was answered when he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Turning, he saw Jason saunter into the room, an arm draped lazily across Tim's shoulder.

"I told you, Dickie-bird, I hate that nickname," Jason said, draping his other arm across Dick's shoulder.

"And I hate Dickie-bird just as much," Dick said, grinning from ear to ear. Just then, the nineteen-year-old heard the front door being opened, and Alfred's voice rang in his ear.

"Welcome, Master Queen, Miss Lance." With that, all five men made their way outside to welcome the guests.

* * *

"I've been here so many times and it still amazes me." Dick glanced down at Barbara, who had a hold on his arm and was looking around the room, her mouth open slightly in awe.

"Alfred's a magician," Dick replied, placing a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Indeed he is," Barbara agreed, leaning her head on his shoulder, "So, how is he?"

Dick didn't have to ask whom she was referring to.

"He's slowly getting used to it, I think," Dick said, glancing over to where Tim stood, conversing with Bruce's good friends Oliver Queen and Dinah Lance.

"Do you think he's still jealous of Damian?" Barbara was careful to keep her voice quiet, taking a sip from her apple juice.

"I think so," Dick muttered, "I just don't understand why."

"Silly," At Dick's feigned offended face, she simply laughed. "He's no longer the baby, no longer the youngest. It's natural that he's jealous."

"I don't understand, Babs."

"Of course not, Boy Wonder. You were never a middle child."

"Neither were you."

"But I had cousins who were," Barbara stated, "It's what most people call the middle-child-syndrome."

"So, Tim's jealous because... he's no longer the youngest? I don't get it. He always hated being called the baby."

"Yeah, but now that he's actually no longer the baby of the family, he doesn't like it."

The pair had slowly made their towards the backyard, for some fresh air as well as some more privacy.

"Do you think he'll get over it?"

Barbara nodded, giving his arm a squeeze. "Jason did."

Dick smiled at that; suddenly remembering the few weeks after Tim had arrived. Jason had hated the little kid's guts, and always teased him and pulled pranks on him. But over time, the hatred subsided and the pranks became less harmful and funnier (for both parties). And now they were closer than ever. It just took some time.

"Yeah, if Jason can do it, Tim can too."

"What did I do that Tim can too?"

The voice caused both Dick and Barbara to turn, seeing Jason standing behind them, a goofy grin on his face.

"Get over the infamous "middle-child-syndrome"," Barbara replied, which caused Jason to laugh, taking a seat on one of the many benches.

"I've noticed Tim's going through that." Dick raised an eyebrow at his younger brother, which made Jason shrug. "I told him to give Damian a chance. And then told him I used to feel the same way about him."

"How'd he react to that?" It was Barbara that spoke up. She had made her way to sit next to Jason, pulling Dick along.

"He just said he'd try," Jason said, "Which, when it comes to Tim, I'm not exactly sure what it means."

"Hopefully he'll come around," Dick said, before glancing back to the ballroom. "We should probably head back. Can't leave poor Timmy all alone in there with Bruce and Damian."

* * *

The gala had ended in the early morning, and when the last of the guests had returned home, Dick remained in the living room, finishing up his bottle of beer (Alfred had allowed Jason, Dick, and Barbara all _one_ alcoholic drink each, just for tonight).

"What are you thinking about?" Barbara's voice brought Dick out from his thoughts as he turned to face his girlfriend, who had her feet propped up on his lap. Since her father was going away for the weekend on a work trip, Barbara was allowed to stay at the mansion over the weekend.

"I'm just wondering if Jason's trying to sneak another bottle of beer behind Alfred's back right now," Dick said, smiling. And right on cue, he heard Alfred's stern voice coming from the kitchen.

"Master Jason, you are underage. You should be thankful that I even gave you one bottle tonight." There was a loud groan, which caused both Dick and Barbara to laugh as an unamused Jason trudged into the living room, his suit jacket long thrown aside.

"Can't believe he won't let me have another one," Jason grumbled, taking a seat on the slipper chair by the unlit fireplace.

"Be glad he gave you one at all," Dick taunted, pressing his bottle to his lips, downing a mouthful of liquid. This caused Jason to grimace at his older brother.

"Well I guess I should follow the little kiddies' lead and head to bed." Jason stood up and stretched his arms, and with a mumbled 'Night', he walked out of the living room.

* * *

**A/N: **Please review! Constructive criticism works well too!


End file.
